


EXISTENCE SLIPPED LIKE SAND THROUGH OUR HANDS (BUT NOT ANYMORE)

by AgnesClementine



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgnesClementine/pseuds/AgnesClementine
Summary: “Hm, looks like it’s going to rain,” Willie comments, head tipped back. Everything around them is colored in monochrome; reality is a far-away, unimportant concept, all the edges blurred and softened. It’s a good day to be content and in love, Alex thinks, touching the tips of his fingers to his breastbone.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 149





	EXISTENCE SLIPPED LIKE SAND THROUGH OUR HANDS (BUT NOT ANYMORE)

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: this is the first willex fic I wanted to write- and then I didn't.
> 
> But!! It's here now!
> 
> Let me know what you think and enjoy! :)

It’s early when Willie picks him up from the studio. Julie is still asleep, surely, and Luke and Reggie are sharing a pair of earphones, huddled in front of a laptop that Ray got for the three of them. They give Willie a small wave, almost completely absorbed in whatever it is they’re watching, and then, off they go.

Willie’s palm fits against his like a puzzle piece, their fingers interlaced like threads of gold and silver spun into something unique and whole. They appear on the beach, the horizon pale and grey with clouds overhead, pressing down with their gloom into everything, while the sea rocks gently against the shore.

“Hm, looks like it’s going to rain,” Willie comments, head tipped back. Everything around them is colored in monochrome; reality is a far-away, unimportant concept, all the edges blurred and softened. It’s a good day to be content and in love, Alex thinks, touching the tips of his fingers to his breastbone. 

“Probably,” he agrees, goes easily when Willie tugs him along, sand shifting and molding around their non-existent feet.

It does look like a storm is brewing in the sky. The clouds are plush and heavy, the air already damp and thick with pressure. Alex’s skin tingles with anticipation. When they were younger- _when they were alive_ \- Alex used to sneak out to stand in the downpour, letting the water soak him through and wash him clean of all the worries and pains.

Far away, above the water, lightning strikes, and they walk closer to the waves that are washing up foam and seaweeds and shells onto the shore.

Willie swings their hands gently between them, his eyes kind and warm when he looks at Alex, alight with mischief. “I got caught in rain once when I was 12,” he tells Alex and chuckles. “I don’t remember what I was doing, but Mom almost didn’t want to let me into the house, I was tracking water and mud everywhere.”

Alex laughs at his gleeful expression and shuffles a bit on his feet. “I used to sneak out when it was raining,” he admits like it’s some grand secret and not something everyone knew he was doing.

He grins and rolls his eyes at Willie’s raised eyebrows and intrigued, “Oh?”

“I went up on the roof,” he says, “or the backyard if it was dark enough that no one would see me from the house.”

“Still,” Willie says, tilting his head like he’s impressed and bumping their shoulders as they stand facing the sea, angled towards each other, like two magnets being pulled together.

(Alex always liked that metaphor. There’s something extremely comforting in the thought that, no matter what happens, two people could find their way back to each other like that. Like it’s effortless. Or like it’s meant to be.)

“Yeah, well, I always got caught,” he says with a clumsy shrug, flushing at the idea of impressing Willie with something as simple as that. “I get sick easily, so my mom could always tell if I went out if I got sick after a storm.”

“Who cares! It’s about the thrill of the moment!” Willie exclaims, louder than the thunder somewhere overhead, alive alive alive with the high-spirited glint in his eyes. 

“Sure,” he agrees easily. It’s cheeky and has Willie squeezing his hand, grinning.

The water laps at their sneakers, washing off wet grains of sand clinging to them, and Alex takes a step back from the waves. Willie follows, then leads them back further.

“If not because of that,” he starts and plops down to sit in the sand, yanking Alex down as well. “Then why were you doing it?”

Alex shakes the hair out of his eyes- not that it works for long- and furrows his eyebrows at the sky, thinking. 

“Comfort,” he says at last and drops his eyes to the sand, pushing his palm into it. “You know how sometimes you have a really shitty day and you just need a nice shower? And then everything feels a bit better?”

At first, Alex thought that the rain could wash off what’s wrong with him, but later, as he came to the understanding that there isn’t something wrong with him, that he’s just the way he’s supposed to be, it felt more like the rain was washing off all the bad looks and hurtful words that stuck to him throughout the days before the storm like greasy handprints on glass figurines.

When he chances a peek at Willie, he’s already watching him, arms looped around his legs and his chin propped on his knee. His hair is spilling over his shoulders, a stray fly-away strand brushing against his cheek. 

“Yeah, I get it,” he says quietly, like he actually heard and understood everything that Alex didn’t say out loud.

The rain starts falling lightly, the drops leaving tiny wet dots on the sand, and Alex holds his hand out, the cold nipping at his skin as the wind starts picking up. The raindrops don’t land on him, falling through.

“Oh,” he says, quiet with disappointment. He hasn’t thought about that- even though Reggie didn’t get wet when Julie accidentally sprayed him while doing the dishes a while back. It’s weird how some things affect them while others don’t. But as Willie told him on more than one occasion, the afterlife is not any less confusing than life was.

In fact, Alex thinks it might be even worse. Well. Only sometimes.

“What’s wrong?” Willie asks him.

He pulls his hand back sheepishly, faintly embarrassed. He is still mostly mournful of this new discovery, despite the fact that- even with everything that happened with Caleb- he has never felt as accepted and free. In a way, life was a noose for Alex. Or not life, exactly, but the judgment and expectations woven into a rope that his parents and most of society stubbornly kept slipping around his neck.

Here, he is free of that. He has Luke and Reggie and Julie. He has the music. And. And he has Willie.

“Nothing,” he says, hugging himself and fighting down a blush. “I’m just being nostalgic, I guess. With everything else that has changed…” he trails off.

Willie hums in understanding, mouth pressed into a line and chewing on the inside of his cheek. Suddenly, he jumps to his feet and offers Alex his hand, pulling him up as well when he slips his hand in Willie’s.

“Um.” He says, unsure, but before he can continue, Willie tells him, “Okay, I don’t know if this will work, but let’s try something.”

He turns them so they’re facing each other. The wind is whipping around them, the sky above them darkening with each moment as the rain keeps pattering down from thick, grey clouds, and waves rolling and splashing against the shore, but Alex is only faintly aware of that, his whole being focused on Willie’s hands holding onto his own, warm and solid.

“I’ve never tried this- but I think it should work. Yeah. Yeah, it’s gonna work, trust me. It’s gonna be great,” Willie says, squeezing his fingers, excitement in every curve of his face, and shining in his eyes as whatever idea he has starts building in his mind.

“I trust you,” Alex says automatically, without a doubt. “But, um, what’s gonna work?”

Willie grins. “You’ll see,” he says cryptically. Then, “You remember the museum?”

“Which one?” Alex asks cheekily and snorts when Willie pinches his palm lightly in retaliation. 

“So,” Willie continues, faux-serious; he’s betrayed by the twitch of his lips, the corners tugging upwards in amusement.

Alex hums for him to continue, also failing to act serious.

“The bench. You remember how I said you have to focus, put it all in your hands?”

He’s not holding their hands anymore, but he staples the tips of their fingers together, ten mirroring, warm points of contact. He pushes against their hands and Alex pushes back, responding to the pressure.

“Now, you have to put that focus in the rest of your body,” he says, shuffling closer until Alex feels his feet nudge against his own in the sand. “To the rest of your hand, in your legs, in your chest-” he touches a spot just beneath Alex’s ribs, and Alex twitches with a small noise in the back of his throat.

Willie asks, “Ticklish?”

“Yeah,” Alex admits easily. He’s aware that he just handed Willie ammunition against him for future use (and by the gleam of mischief in Willie’s eyes, he knows it too) but he really can’t care right now.

Expression delighted, Willie says, “Okay. Remember, stay focused,” and goes right back. “Focus on how and where you’re standing, focus on your shoulders,” his arms trail up Alex’s arms, fingers almost sweeping over the tips of his shoulder blades as they pass his shoulders and reach the base of his neck, thumbs lightly grazing his collarbones. “Focus on your face, the wind in your hair, the rain on your skin.”

Willie’s voice is like the sweetest lullaby, his words soft and sugary, so Alex closes his eyes, focuses on that, and how gentle and warm Willie’s palms are when they cup his face, the light pressure of them against his cheeks.

His fingers are cold, so he tangles them in the hem of Willie’s sweater; the fabric is almost delicate, well-loved under his fingertips- like Alex always hoped, dreamed of being to someone. 

The soles of their sneakers sink into the wet sand, and Alex feels his skin tingle everywhere Willie touched him, as he thinks, _this is it._

And then, a raindrop falls on the tip of his nose. More on his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks- Alex gasps, just a small, shuddering breath that gets lost in the wind and the thunder. The rain is so cold, just dozens of icy pins falling over them- and then, overhead, the sky cracks loudly, and the downpour soaks them in seconds.

Alex yelps in surprise, feeling his heart beating in his throat, and in front of him, Willie whoops in glee.

Alex opens his eyes, squinting through the rain, to watch Willie bounce on his feet, grinning with dark, wet strands of hair plastered to his face.

“Hell yeah!” Willie screams into the sky. 

Alex feels alive just watching him, wild and free like the storm they’re caught in. He laughs, shaking his hair out of his eyes with no success. Willie looks at him and sweeps one hand over Alex’s forehead, tangling his fingers in his hair and pushing it away. His eyes are so bright that Alex might as well be looking at the Sun.

He leans down without a thought, bumping their noses together before Willie tilts his head and aligns their lips into something less clumsy, but just as sweet. 

The only thing Alex tastes is rain, but it’s warm and could as well be ichor from Willie’s lips. He closes his eyes to savor it and feels Willie smile against his lips before the white lights of lightning burst behind his eyelids, accompanied by thunder that’s got nothing on the way his heart is beating in his ears as Willie keeps kissing him.

When the next roar makes his shoulders jerk, Willie whispers, “You want to get back to the studio?” against his lips.

“‘s just loud,” Alex whispers back, leaning his forehead against Willie’s and reaching up to hold Willie’s wrists where they’re resting on both sides of Alex’s neck. “Can we just stay a minute longer?”

“Yeah,” Willie agrees readily, his fingers brushing water that’s dripping out of Alex’s hair down his nape and into his already drenched shirt collar. By now, they’re both well soaked through to the bones of their not-bodies, so the gesture is nothing more than an excuse to touch, and prompts Alex to tuck his face into his neck.

“We can stay here for an eternity if you want,” Willie adds and Alex believes him. He used to crave this type of marrow-deep affection that Willie shrouds him in whenever they’re close- and now he has an infinity bask in it and return it in kind.


End file.
